... Boris Karloff in "Danse Macabre." Mr. Karloff's most recent appearance at our microphone was a memorable one. We recall his Armistice Day performance with a great deal of satisfaction. Tonight's play is of a different order, a frankly melodramatic thriller by Arch Oboler, whose remarkable imaginings on the "Lights Out" program -- which happens to be my favorite program -- have chilled millions of spines on Wednesday evenings at twelve-thirty during the past two years. The play was inspired by the Saint-Säens composition of the same name and the great French composer is one of two principal characters, played tonight by Harold Vermilyea. Boris Karloff in "Danse Macabre."

SFX:

APPLAUSE

MFX:

FOR AN INTRO, THEN IN BG

HOST:

Scene -- a country churchyard in provincial France. Standing beside a small white headstone -- inscribed, "To the memory of my son, Louis" -- stands Charles Camille Saint-Säens, already known as one of the world's great composers. It is night. Very late at night. As Saint-Säens weeps over the grave of his young son, a church bell tolls in the distance.

MFX:

FADES OUT, LEAVING ONLY THE DISTANT TOLLING CHURCH BELL ... BELL OUT AT [X]

SAINT-SäENS:

(SOBS)

JACQUES:

Is that you, Monsieur Saint-Säens?

SAINT-SäENS:

Who is it?

JACQUES:

It's I, Old Jacques.

SAINT-SäENS:

You're out late, my friend. [X]

JACQUES:

Yes. Sometimes I like to walk here among the tombstones. There are more of my old friends here than there are back in town. Ah, I know, Monsieur Saint-Säens, it is bitter to lose someone so young. 'Tis only when one is as old as I that Death becomes a friend.

SAINT-SäENS:

Friend? The monster that took from me the thing I loved most in all the world?

JACQUES:

To you, a monster. To me, a friend. It is a difference of thought that comes to me, perhaps, only because I have lived too long.

SFX:

OWL HOOTS

JACQUES:

Ah, the owl hoots. He tells old Jacques it's time to be home. Good night, Monsieur Saint-Säens.

SAINT-SäENS:

Good night, Jacques.

JACQUES:

Do not weep too long, monsieur. Your little one rests. And rest here in a quiet, bowered churchyard must be very sweet. (MOVING OFF) Yes, it's sweet.

(TO HIMSELF) Terrible! He plays and they dance! Bones! Dead men -- dancing!

VOICES:

(ECHO, HIDEOUS LAUGHTER)

SAINT-SäENS:

What goes on?! You, Fiddler, you spoke to me of peace -- and now this! Oh, unhappy dancers!

FIDDLER:

(LAUGHS) Dance, my white ones! Dance to my tune! (LAUGHS)

VOICES:

(MORE HIDEOUS LAUGHTER)

SAINT-SäENS:

Fiddler, who are you?!

FIDDLER:

Does it matter who I am, Saint-Säens? Oh, listen to me. If you take your life, you will be as my dancers are! A happy rattle of bones! A grinning joy, dancing each night like those out there!

SAINT-SäENS:

You?! Death?!

FIDDLER:

(CHUCKLES) How quick you are, my friend!

SAINT-SäENS:

But - but death is rest.

FIDDLER:

Ah, but there are two kinds of death, Saint-Säens. One kind, gentle -- a death who gives the empty silence of rest to those who face life and fight it to the end. But then there is the other death. For those who listen to me. Happy dancers to my music forever! Come, Saint-Säens, the pistol! Draw in the dance!

Zig! Zig-a-zig-zig!
Ha haaaaaaaa!
Death knocks at the tomb with a rhythmic heel!
Death fiddles at dawning a horrible tune!
The wind of winter whistles, dark is the night!
Groans come from the linden trees!
White skeletons come out across the darkness!
They run, they leap -- each under his shroud!
Zig-a-zig, zig-a-zig!
Each miserable sinner!
Ah, come, Saint-Säens! Join the dance! (LAUGHS)

SFX:

LONG, LOUD COCK CROW ... TOPS EVERYTHING ... SUDDEN SILENCE

MFX:

ABRUPTLY OUT WITH ABOVE

FIDDLER:

(HUSHED) All-a-sudden, they leave their whirl.

SFX:

QUIET RATTLE OF BONES SLOWLY RETURNING TO GRAVES ... CONTINUES IN BG

FIDDLER:

They thrust each other back to their graves. They must! The cock has crowed.

MFX:

SAD AND GENTLE "DANSE MACABRE" THEME ON VIOLIN

FIDDLER:

Quick, Saint-Säens, quickly, join them. Use the pistol! Join them before it is too late! Dawn is coming! Join them, man!

SAINT-SäENS:

No. Never. Never! Look at them. Unhappy bones. No rest. No peace. I'll never join you, never! Better life with all its sorrow than that! I tell you, I'll live out my life to the end!

MFX:

OUT

SFX:

SILENCE

FIDDLER:

Ah, but I've not lost, Saint-Säens. With you, I will never lose. Though you deny me, you will never forget my music.

MFX:

CLIMAX OF "DANSE MACABRE" AGAIN ... BUILDS IN BG

FIDDLER:

It will sing! It will ring in your head -- hour after hour, day after day -- till you can bear it no longer! You will write it, note for note, measure for measure, and all the world will hear my voice! Farewell, Saint-Säens. You see, I am still victorious. (INCREASINGLY MANIACAL LAUGHTER)